Snowbound: Adventures in Parenting
by dreamer one
Summary: Three teenagers, a sensitive nine year old artist and a major winter storm. Jack and Sam have weathered the onslaught of alien invaders, but are they ready for this?
1. Chapter 1

SNOWBOUND: ADVENTURES IN PARENTING

Summary: Three teenagers, a sensitive nine-year-old artist and a major winter storm. Jack and Sam have weathered the onslaught of alien invaders, but are they ready for this?

A/N: Can be read as a stand-alone (just think married Jack and Sam with their four snow-bound children) or as part of Alone series (the first sequel).

* * *

Eight feet of snow! In a period of forty-eight hours, Colorado Springs, no stranger to winter storms, had been buried under a virtual avalanche of the cold white fluff. Schools were closed, places of business were shut down, shopping malls looked like ghost towns and even the top secret Cheyenne Mountain facility was running with essential personnel only.

On the bright side, everything on the intergalactic scene had been calm recently. Here in the year 2020, Goa'uld, Replicators and Ori had been brought to heel and allied forces had won the day. The heftiest parts of the O'Neills' current military assignments were research and peaceful exploration. Fully four years after Jack and Sam's last joint mission, family was truly their top priority and they were no longer risking their lives on a regular basis.

And so, at 0600 Monday morning in the O'Neill household, alarms went off as usual, alerting the family of deadlines for work and school. Only today, there would be neither. Weather and highway reports made it clear that save for an intervention by the Asgard, no one would be leaving home today.

"Hey, Mom," Jake hollered from the den. "I can't find my sneaks. I'm due at Rick's by seven. I'm gonna need some help here," he announced as though it were an intergalactic emergency.

"I don't think we're going anywhere today, Jake. Take a look outside," Sam said, shaking her head as she took in the full extent of the storm's fury in their little neck of the woods. First floor windows were just about covered. It was going to take some doing to get out the front door, let alone make it to the end of the driveway.

"Oh, crap," Sam heard her eldest exclaim as he got a good look at the piles of snow. "We've got physics projects due today and practice this afternoon," he complained. "I'm gonna get Dad, we'll dig out. You'll help too, right, Mom?"

Sam smiled to herself as her enthusiastic, seventeen-year-old son ran toward the master bedroom and proceeded to bang none too gently on the door, hoping to rouse his father. He was _so_ going to be sorry! And disappointed! There was no way the most enthusiastic snow removal team was getting them very far today.

"For crying out loud!" the anticipated explosion sounded from the bedroom. "I'm trying to sleep here! What are you, four-years-old?"

Sam rolled her eyes, joining the other kids who'd found their way into the hall, summoned by their father's indignant shout.

"Sorry," Jake called through the still closed bedroom door. "But Dad, I'm gonna be late. It's gonna take awhile to dig out. Come on!"

"I'll help, Jake," Jon, his thirteen-year-old brother volunteered, emerging fully dressed from his room. "But there's no school today, bro! Everything's closed."

Sam watched her eldest son's face fall at the news. This was, after all, a big day for him.

"Can't be. Too much happening today!" Jake protested. "You sure, Jon?"

"Yep, I'm sure alright!" the younger boy replied. "No school," he repeated, clearly less than disappointed.

"So are you helping or not, Jon?" Jake asked, getting a bad feeling about their chances for success, but determined to give it his best shot.

"Sure, Jake," he said, "but remember, no funny stuff."

Jake rolled his eyes in an expression strangely reminiscent of his mother's, knowing his little brother was referring to the temptation to use his telekinetic ability. Didn't the little guy know anything?

"Jon, don't be ridiculous," he berated him. "I'd never do that no matter how much I wanted something." The twins' telekinetic abilities had faded with age. In any case, they'd long ago agreed with their parents that short of truly life threatening situations, those abilities would never be used.

"Okay you two, tone it down a bit!" Jack commanded as he stumbled out of the bedroom, awakened at a pitch he did not appreciate. "If you guys are gonna start digging out, get to it. I'll be out and start the blower, soon as I get some coffee."

"While you're at it, let Grace know she's needed too," Sam added. "I'll be out with Beth as soon as I get the coffee on for your dad," she said, reaching over to kiss her grouchy, sleepy husband. Jack sighed and gathered Sam close to his side as he watched his two boys barrel into the storm, literally plowing their way out the front door.

"Close the door…" Sam called after them, "and don't forget your hats!"

Now it was Jack's turn to smile and chuckle as quietly as he could. She would mother them until they were old and gray; he wouldn't have it any other way.

"That's better," Jack suggested as the noise level dropped precipitously with the departure of the boys. "Don't look now," he whispered in Sam's ear, "think I spoke too soon."

Sure enough, the couple turned to see their seventeen-year-old daughter, Grace, emerging from the upstairs bathroom, her long blond hair neatly tied back and a gentle sheen of makeup already tastefully applied.

"What's all the noise, Dad," she asked. "There's no school today and all the roads are closed. So what's the big hurry?"

"See," Jack answered grinning and smiling towards his oldest daughter, "at least one of our children understands how I think! What's the big rush, anyway?"

"No rush at all it seems," Sam answered, now from the kitchen, where she'd gone to start coffee and call into the SGC. "Seems the landlines are down, heavy snow they say. I barely got through to the SGC on my cell. They're running a skeleton crew, keeping the airmen already on duty at their posts, Jack. Seems they're not expecting either of us to make it in today," she said, sounding almost disappointed. Something about the fact they were no longer considered absolutely essential personnel didn't sit right for her or her husband these days.

"Sounds like we may all be stuck home together," Jack said, stretching and taking a long, hard look out the back windows. "It's not good out there, Mrs. O'Neill."

With that the recently freed front door swung open, caught by a gust of frigid air, admitting two slightly frozen teen-aged boys, covered head to foot in snow.

"Hey, that's enough for now," Jake called, never one to give up easily. "It's really bad. The drifts are over my head!" the lanky six foot tall basketball point guard announced. "We're gonna need more than the shovels and a blower, Dad."

"Probably right, Jake," Jack said, wondering if the plow he'd recently mounted on the truck would be up to the task. "Hey, dry off you two. We'll get some breakfast and figure out what to do."

"Where's Beth?" Sam asked, finally thinking of her quiet youngest who'd managed to avoid the early morning hubbub.

"She couldn't have slept through the boys screaming through the house," Grace proclaimed, giving her twin a meaningful, accusatory look.

"I'll get her," Jake volunteered.

Seconds later, the one who'd woken the whole house in the first place, knocked and slowly opened his little sister's door. He was right. She wasn't sleeping. Instead, the petite nine-year-old sat peacefully in front of her window, paint brush in hand, starting to capture the beauty of winter's latest fury on canvass. Hating to disturb this sight of perfect peace and harmony, he stood silently and watched her work.

OoOoOo

It was hard for either parent to remember the last time the whole family had spent more than an hour at a time together. These days, each of their four children had hectic school and social schedules; they were out of the house much more than they were at home. Gone were the days of regular family outings and talking about everything that happened at school and with their friends. In fact, those days were _long_ gone. Jack, for one, wondered when things had changed so drastically.

In any case, today would be different. For that matter from the report they'd heard during breakfast, the next few _days_ might be different. For the time being the O'Neills and most of Colorado Springs were snowbound, held hostage to a state of emergency these two members of the military knew would be taken very seriously by local law enforcement.

"Well, Jack," Sam said gently as all four children were preparing to brave the elements for one more snow clearing attempt, "it looks like today will be the perfect opportunity to have that talk with Jake."

"Suppose so," he said, huffing a huge breath. "_So _not looking forward to this. He's a good kid, Sam, what are we supposed to do with this?" he asked rhetorically, holding up the roach he'd found the other night when he'd moved Jake's car for plowing.

Sam regarded her husband lovingly, as she pulled Grace's down parka out of the closet, deciding it was the warmest thing she could wear for the snow removal adventure. She'd bought the warm coat for Grace earlier this year, but apparently her daughter thought it was cooler to freeze than bundle up like her mother.

"We talk to him about it, right?" she suggested. "It's not like we haven't had the talk about drugs before, you know."

"Yeah, but not when we thought _he_ was actually using," Jack said, knowing this would be different from all the generic warnings of the past. "What?" he asked, seeing Sam's nose wrinkle up with confusion as she pulled something out of the pocket of Grace's coat.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'll be having a talk with our daughter about this," she said, gingerly holding up a neatly wrapped item she knew would shake her husband's world.

"That's not. Tell me, that's not," Jack said, his eyes pleading.

"Yep, it is. Rough Rider brand to be exact," Sam announced, watching the color drain from Jack's face.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Okay, the past few weeks, we've had lots of snow where I am, so this story just came naturally. Plus, since it was school vacation week, most of my mental health/chemical dependency intake interviews at work were with adolescents. So, voila: the first of two sequels to Alone.

At the end of any week spent largely with adolescents at work, I'm left with an overwhelming sense of awe about any parents who successfully help their children negotiate those years. So this is my take on how Jack and Sam might deal with some of the normal challenges of parenting teens.

No more than 3-4 chapters.

Hope you review and let me know what you think! Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2 Real Heroes

CHAPTER TWO: REAL HEROES

"A condom did not just fall out of my daughter's pocket," Jack said, willing his denial to be true. "Sam, come on," he entreated, lightly holding her by the arms and fixing her with a steady gaze. "Tell me we're in some kind of alternate reality. We are, right?"

"Jack, I'm afraid not," Sam said. "But look on the bright side. If you talk with Jake about the pot, I'll talk with Grace about this."

"Oh, _I'm_ talking with Grace, Sam. I think she needs to hear a thing or two from her dad about what she's got goin' on here."

"Jack, we don't know _what _she's got going on, if anything," Sam reasoned. "You're acting like this little item is some evil alien contraption you've never seen before."

"Sam, why couldn't she talk with us about this boy, whoever he is? What, all of a sudden, I'm the last one to know what's going on around here?" he asked, clearly becoming more agitated by the minute.

"Jack, honey, listen to yourself," Sam entreated. "I'll bet she didn't tell you because she was afraid you'd dismember the poor guy. And didn't tell me because she knew I'd tell you."

"It's still not right, Sam. She's seventeen for cryin' out loud, our little girl!" Jack protested.

Sam smiled gently at her husband realizing the biggest reason she sounded so calm was in order to keep him in check. "Honey, I want to keep her safe too, probably as much as you do. But you and I can't have everything we want. And we don't want to keep her so safe she never lives. Right?"

"I suppose."

"Let me talk with her first, see what she has to say, before we get all worked up. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll go blow snow with the boys," he said, trying to make the best of things, but not at all convinced. It was so much easier blowing up Goa'uld motherships!

"By the way, what are you going to tell Jake about the pot?" Sam called after him.

"What am I going to tell him?" Jack answered rhetorically. "I'm going to tell him no son of mine is gonna smoke that crap, even if it is legal now!"

"Oh yeah, that'll work," she smiled.

"Fine, I'll listen to him," he relented. "Are you happy, Mom?"

"You'll do fine."

"And if I don't, you'll fix it, right?" Jack asked, really hoping for reassurance.

"I'll back you up, General," she said with a smile, "always."

"Like I said."

OoOoOo

Now it wasn't that the O'Neills had never talked with their children about sex, alcohol, drugs and the other myriad problems teenagers and their parents confronted on a daily basis. In fact they'd prided themselves on having fairly open lines of communication, leading all of their children to seek them out for advice on a variety of issues over the years. Among their children's friends Jack and Sam were well liked and respected. Parties, albeit without alcohol or other drugs, were held at their home on a regular basis and well attended by classmates of the twins and the younger children in turn. That said, finding that in spite of it all, there were clearly areas where they didn't know what was going on in their children's lives was disturbing.

So while Jack took the boys and their little sister outside to tackle the snow, Sam was left to talk with Grace. The brilliant astrophysicist and fairly savvy mother was certainly more comfortable talking about sex with her daughter than her husband would ever be. Still, it was a daunting task. After all, it was hard not to see Grace as the innocent little girl they'd all doted over for years. And as the lovely late adolescent with shining blue eyes walked in to answer her mother's call, Sam prepared herself to see her daughter as the young woman she was fast becoming.

"Yeah, Mom, what's up? Dad said you needed to see me," Grace said as she came into the kitchen.

"He's right," Sam said simply. "I'm making hot cocoa. Come on, let's take it into the study and talk there," she added with a smile, handing her daughter the steaming cup, topped off with whipped cream and the chocolate sprinkles she still loved.

Grace took the proffered treat from her mother happily. Hey, she was getting out of the next round of shoveling! Still she knew something was on her parents' minds. The look on her father's face had said it all.

"Thanks, Mom. But I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"What? Do I look like a firing squad?" Sam quipped, leading the way to the study and choosing a comfy chair by the window.

Against her better judgment, Grace, today looking the spitting image of her mother as a teen, sat across from the older woman, wondering what was going on. From where they were seated they both had a great view of the rest of the family busily working at their snow removal tasks. Clearly _that _was going to take awhile.

"Mom, shouldn't we be out there helping, instead of sipping cocoa in here," she asked, always responsible to do her part.

"It's okay, your dad and the kids have it covered for now, Princess," she said, reverting to their pet name for Grace. _That would have to stop_, she thought wryly.

"Grace, you know the down parka I bought you last month?" Sam paused till she saw Grace nod with dawning recognition. "I went to put it on this morning and found this in the pocket," Sam said, holding the still wrapped condom out towards here daughter.

Grace blanched and winced as she saw the tell-tale item in her mother's hand.

"Guess it wouldn't be good to say I didn't know how it got there?" Grace offered sheepishly.

"No. And thanks for respecting my intelligence," her mother quickly replied.

"Please don't tell Dad."

"Grace, your Dad already knows. We haven't stayed together all this time by keeping secrets."

"That explains the look I got on his way out," she said. "Mom, I'm not doing anything…really."

"So …?"

"Paul, he's really a good guy. I like him a lot. You know we've been going out almost six months now. I think I love him."

"And ..."

"Well Marcia says I need to be ready, in case, you know … so she gave me some things."

"Some things?"

"Mom…"

"Grace, what things?"

"Condoms, other stuff, you know."

"What do you think about all of it…getting ready that is?" Sam asked, restraining her natural impulse to order her daughter to cease and desist.

"I really like him, Mom. You've met Paul, he's a good guy; even Dad liked him."

"You're right, we both like Paul. And we both _love_ you, Grace."

"Okay, so you're not mad?"

"This isn't about us being mad, Grace."

"Then what _is_ this little inquisition about, Mom? I'm a big girl; if I sleep with Paul, isn't that my business?"

"Maybe Grace, but it doesn't mean I'm not concerned about you."

"We love each other, Mom," she said earnestly. "What," she asked, seeing the quizzical look on her mother's face, "you don't think I can be in love, because I'm seventeen? I can't believe this!"

"You're wrong about that, Grace. I know you can love very deeply, always could," Sam said. "I just don't want you to be hurt. Having sex with a man is a big step. No matter how you look at it, it's a commitment. Do you think you're ready for that?"

"We're not getting married, Mom! Its just sex! If we don't like it, we go our separate ways."

"It's not always that easy, sweetheart."

"Then I guess I'll have to learn to handle it. Mom, I don't want to disappoint you and dad, but I am going to live my life."

"Grace, you could never disappoint either one of us."

"Oh yeah? Dad will be disappointed if I'm not a virgin at forty!"

Sam nearly choked on the cocoa she was sipping. "You're right," she admitted, once she'd caught her breath. "So I guess he'll probably have to be a little disappointed, won't he?"

Finally, it was Grace's turn to giggle and the tension was broken.

"So you won't be upset if I talk with you about it?" Grace asked after a few moments of silence. "You know, when I'm trying to figure out what to do."

"Grace, I'll only be upset if you don't. I remember being your age. I wish my mom had been there for me. Dads aren't quite the same when it comes to girl stuff."

"You can say that again," Grace said softly. "It's so hard, Mom. Sometimes I don't know what to do."

"Then it's okay to wait until you do, Grace. You don't have to hurry."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Again this was a story I needed to write because of last week's series of adolescent interviews at work. I know you may or may not agree with the words I put in Sam's mouth as she spoke with Grace, but I believe given Sam's temperament and willingness to listen, it might have gone something like that. I'm of the belief that a little listening can go a long way to preventing some of the painful situations my clients end up in.

And of course, this would be only one of many conversations!

Reviews appreciated and thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3 Heroes Still

CHAPTER THREE: HEROES STILL

After a solid hour of plowing, shoveling and snow blowing, Jack, the boys and Beth came in from the cold, a gust of icy wind at their backs.

"Hey, Gracie, get your butt out there and do some work," Jake called to his twin sister as he shook off the snow and came to stand in front of the roaring fireplace.

"Yeah, how come Grace gets to stay in here, Mom? What makes her so special?" Jon piped in, looking every bit as frozen as his big brother.

"Leave her alone," Beth said, "can't you see she's having a private talk with Mom? She's probably in trouble."

Jack and Sam exchanged knowing looks across the room, resisting the urge to chuckle at their youngest child's patented ability to get to the heart of the matter.

"In fact, Beth, she's not in trouble at all and I think we're all finished," Sam countered, standing up and smiling softly at her older daughter. The smile was warmly returned as Grace silently mouthed the words, 'thank you' and stood up as well.

"Yeah, I think we'd better move out, Mom. It looks like Jake's planning to drip dry in front of the fireplace," Grace quipped, making a face at her brother, reminiscent of their antics at a much younger age.

Jake shot her a look even as he stood in front of the fire, divesting himself of snow gear and rapidly creating a nice little puddle on the hard wood floor. "Sorry, Mom," he said, finally realizing what he was doing. I'll clean it up."

"You do that, Jake," Jack said, "then I sure hope it's time for the great coffee I smell. Maybe cake, too?"

"I'll get the coffee, Dad," Grace said, walking past her father. "Oh," she added, almost as an afterthought, stopping in her tracks, "I love you, Dad. And by the way, not all boys are dogs, you know."

Grace walked calmly out of the den and towards the kitchen. Jon and Beth followed, lured by the promise of cake. Jack stood, staring after all of them, not saying a word.

"What?" Sam asked, walking over to her husband and placing her hand on his arm.

Jack turned slowly to look at her and answered with a question of his own, "Good talk, huh?"

"Yes, it was," Sam replied with a satisfied smile, waiting for whatever Jack really wanted to tell her.

"I'll have you know, I was one of those dogs in high school," he said solemnly..

Sam smiled. It explained a lot.

OoOoOo

After hot drinks, lunch and eventually, cake – actually, leftover brownies -- the O'Neills realized it was already the middle of the afternoon. While Jack and Jake cleaned up the kitchen, Jon, the girls and Sam, headed outside for an old fashioned snowball war. After all, what else was there to occupy time on a snowbound Monday afternoon?

Jake had slowly started to relax about the school activities he was missing today. Once he'd seen the size of the drifts he quickly realized the situation was out of his control. After making a quick set of calls to all his basketball teammates and the coach, he realized practice would simply be rescheduled. As for the physics project, with a little luck he might actually find some time tonight to add a few finishing touches.

"Enough of this cleaning, Dad," Jake said eventually, never one for doing dishes or other domestic chores. "Let's go show them what a real snowball fight is all about!"

"Jake, I was thinking we could go for a ride, just the two of us," Jack suggested as an alternative. "We could take the 'Cats'; it's been awhile since we had a chance to use them." Usually the snowmobiles were reserved for trips to the cabin in Minnesota.

"Really? That would be great, Dad." Jake said, struggling to restrain his excitement; he didn't want his father to notice how glad he was to have some time alone with him. The older Jake got, the more he felt the need for independence and the desire to prove his worth to everyone, especially his dad. Though the seventeen-year-old did his best to pull away from the rules and structures of his parents, his respect for both his mother and father was an abiding principle in his life.

"Yeah, time to fire up those machines and give them some miles," Jack said in response. "It's just the day for it. We can check out what's going on around here, how close they are to getting the roads open." _Besides, we need to talk_, Jack thought to himself.

OoOoOo

The other kids only whined momentarily when Jack announced he and Jake were taking the Arctic Cats for a ride. Sam had done her best to distract them, smiling to herself at Jack's uncharacteristically subtle technique. He really was a great dad, even if he did need encouragement every once in awhile to rein in some of his more extreme parenting impulses.

The sprawling O'Neill home was located in a Colorado Springs' suburban development that backed up to a small wooded area. It was a quiet neighborhood and today's snowfall had made it even more so. The only vehicles on the roads today were plows and snowmobiles. The city plows had been through once, but it would be awhile before more traditional transportation was going anywhere.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the sun was out and the wind had died down. It was a beautiful winter day for snowmobiling. With only two hours before sunset, Jack and Jake set off on their trek. Fortunately, the snowmobiles were in good working order and they were off down the road before they knew it. After a brief tour of the neighborhood, checking out their neighbors playing in the snow and the progress or lack thereof of snow removal, Jack deftly detoured into the wooded area.

The woods had long ago been altered to accommodate snowmobiles with two trails cleared of trees and other debris. Now Jack and Jake rode down one of these trails, leading them to the nearby golf course, abandoned now except for a handful of hardy cross-country skiers and other snowmobiles barely visible in the distance.

"Hold up," Jack called, braking and pulling up towards the center of a clearing. Jake noticed his dad had stopped and parked by his side, mere inches away.

"You know it's a bad idea to drive one of these drunk or high, right?" Jack began.

Jake looked at his father. The man's face was still ruggedly handsome and though he'd never tell him so, he could only hope to age as well. As usual, that familiar face bore no trace of what was really going on his head and for a moment, Jake was dumfounded. What was his dad getting at? Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What are you getting at, Dad?" Jake asked, not sure he wanted to know, and hoping his first supposition was wrong.

"Oh, not much, Jake," Jack replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. Both he and his son were staring off into the distance, avoiding looking directly at each other. "I was moving your car yesterday and I found the butt end of a joint. I was wondering about that."

Jake wasn't ready to come clean about this with his father. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to leave it in plain sight! _What was I thinking? _He berated himself. _Dad is gonna be so pissed!_

Jake's next move was poorly considered.

"You're kidding! I can't believe he left that in my car!" he offered.

"So it was …one of your friends?" Jack pursued, wondering how far his son would take this little scam.

"Yeah, Dad," Jake lied, feeling like he was going to be sick. Lying to Jack O'Neill was so _not _a good plan. But as much as he knew this from past experience, Jake couldn't help himself. "You know, I told him to not leave anything in my car."

"Really?" Jack said rhetorically. "So how many people smoke pot in that car I signed off on?"

_Oh boy, here we go, _Jake thought. _He brought me out here so I couldn't call for help._

"Just the one guy, Dad. Honest. And believe me he'll never do it again," Jake said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

"Hmm… that's good," Jack said calmly, still sharing the gaze of denial as they both focused on the clubhouse in the distance. "How 'bout you, you smoke?"

Jake was so glad he wasn't looking at his dad. He swallowed hard, blinked and gave it his best shot. "You know I hate cigarettes, Dad. And the pot, well I told this guy I didn't want to see it again."

At that, Jake felt rather than saw his father's eyes on him. Actually, they were boring a hole into him. _Give it up_, he told himself. Reluctantly, he turned in his seat to face his father. The face of an intergalactic hero, his father's face, was still impassive. _Who was toying with whom?_

"Okay, Jake, so which of your friends had the pot?" Jack asked, knowing he had his prevaricating son on the ropes and wondering how long it would take to get the truth.

This was one thing Jake never could do, get a friend in trouble. Even if it did mean saving himself from his father's wrath, he couldn't sacrifice a friend, or anyone else in the process.

"Fine, there wasn't a friend in the car, Dad. It was mine. You happy now?" he quipped cheekily.

"No, I'm not _happy_, Jake," came the reply, in the dangerous tone Jake was used to when his father was on edge. "I'm not 'happy' at all, son. Actually, I'm angry and I'm worried. How 'bout you. _Happy?_"

Jake looked at his father, trying for the life of him to make his face an impassive mask as well. He'd give anything right now to hear his father launch into a loud, angry tirade. It would make it so much easier to respond in kind.

"Dad, honest, I've only tried it twice. That's it."

"Honest? Okay, that's a refreshing change of pace after the happy horse manure you just gave me. It's a stupid thing to do and you don't do stupid things," Jack stated matter-of-factly.

"Stupid? Dad, lots of my friends smoke a little weed. It's no big deal."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Some people even think it helps them concentrate on their school work."

"Oh, yeah! Pot's really well known for that," Jack stated in his most grandiose sarcastic tone. "You must have gotten that piece of stunning research from a Potheads of America website.

"Dad! Hey, I've read about the sixties and seventies in history class. I know you did some of the stuff when you were my age."

"In history? Oh thanks, Jake, now I feel even older than I am," Jack said, really wishing Sam had volunteered to help him with this. "Listen, sure I smoked some pot back in the day. The fact I did it doesn't make it a good idea, then or now."

Jake looked at his father, wondering where he was going with this.

"Not everything I've done was a good idea. Marrying your mother, now that was one of my better ones. Having you kids, that was yet another stroke of genius. Pot and all the drinking I did, those weren't my best moments, Jake."

Both Jake and his father were silent for a few moments, breaking eye contact when it became too intense. Then Jack continued.

"You know the real problem, Jake? I started to think doing that stuff was just normal, no big deal. That's when problems start," Jack said, pausing as he recalled some of his own regrets. "Jake, I know you've got to make your own decisions, much as I'd like to make them for you. At least I feel better about it after hearing what you had to say today."

"Huh? What do you mean, Dad?" Jake asked, truly wondering what part of the absolutely pathetic stuff he'd said would've given his father any confidence in his decision making ability.

"It was that song and dance you gave me about the pot, son," Jack said. "I know you. When you believe you're right, you never hesitate to stand up to me. If you thought the pot was a good idea, you would have told me so."

Jake shook his head. "You're right," he admitted, finally giving it up. "I'm sorry, Dad."

"You're sorry? For what?" Jack asked, wondering how this was going to play out.

"Lying, more than anything," Jake answered. "You deserve better than that from me." Jake could feel the flush in his face as he spoke and it wasn't from the cold. He was sorely embarrassed that he had lied to his father.

"That's as it should be, Jake," Jack replied simply. "Let's go home."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story so far. 

There is one more chapter to complete this short one and it will be up this weekend if all goes well.

Please review and let me know how you think Jack did.


	4. Chapter 4 They're Great Kids

THEY'RE GREAT KIDS

Twenty minutes later the CATs pulled up in the O'Neill front yard. Sam heard the roar of the engines and tried her best not to show how anxious she was.

"Good ride?" she asked, as father and son walked in the front door, stomping their feet on the doormat to remove some of the snow.

"Yeah, Mom," Jake answered. "Dad's a little out of practice, but yeah, good ride."

Jack playfully swatted his wise cracking son upside the head, smirking as he did so.

Sam smiled with more than a little relief that the two were back and apparently on good terms.

"I'll get those keys, Dad. Be down in a minute," Jake said.

As Jake hightailed it upstairs to his room, Sam shot Jack a puzzled look.

"What keys?" she asked.

"His car keys," he answered simply. "They're mine for the next month."

"Really?"

"Really, Sam," he replied as he stripped off his soaked snow gear. "I'm not too old to remember my own youthful indiscretions, but one thing Jake has to learn is to _never _drink or smoke any of that stuff when he's driving. I may or may not be able to convince him to stay away from it completely, but if being without the car for awhile helps impress the driving lesson, it'll be one of the better things I've done as a father."

"I'm _so_ glad you're back!" Jon called unexpectedly, running down the stairs. "I'm starving. Mom said we couldn't even _start_ dinner until you two were home."

"You're always starving, Jon," Jack quipped, ruffling his younger son's hair. "Must be a sign you're ready to put on a few more inches and shoot past that brother of yours."

"That'll be the day!" the younger boy said wistfully, discouraged by what he considered his short, five-foot, four-inch stature. The fact that his parents kept assuring him he'd hit a growth spurt soon had never been very reassuring.

"Where's Beth?" Jack inquired, missing his quieter, intuitive nine-year-old daughter.

Sam looked a bit surprised by Jack's question, quick realization dawning. "You know, I've been so busy with the work they e-mailed from the SGC, I haven't even noticed Beth for the past couple of hours." With that statement, Sam thought once more how easy it was to lose track of her naturally introverted little girl. She was so different from her older siblings; Sam needed to remind herself everyday that Beth needed her attention as much as the other children who loudly clamored for it on a regular basis.

"She's upstairs pouting, Mom," Jon interrupted her thoughts. "She's been in there since Dad and Jake took the CATS out."

"Pouting?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, you know, what artist types do when no one's paying attention to them," Jon clarified. Jon had long ago realized that Beth was temperamentally more subdued and sensitive than her siblings. In his own mind, he'd taken on the role of his little sister's protector and advocate. But even he could only take so much of the infamous pout.

"So you think your sister's an artist, do you?" Sam asked

"She paints really well, Mom," Jon answered, a tone of pride in his voice. "As for drawing, she's drawing all the time. If I were doing it, it would be doodling, but she's _drawing_. You should see the sketches she'd been doing lately."

Jack and Sam knew their youngest was fascinated by paints and watercolors and spent a great deal of time alone in her room after her homework was completed, usually sketching. Actually, they were starting to get a bit concerned. They'd gotten her an easel and a good set of paints, but they had to admit, everything had been so busy the past few weeks, a quiet, self-directed daughter was the least of their worries. It had been awhile since they'd seriously examined her art work or, probably, given her some of the attention she craved. Well that would have to change.

With that, Jake bounded down the stairs, sadly but willingly surrendering the car keys into his father's waiting hand. With a barely perceptible nod, Jack motioned both the boys towards the kitchen where he hoped they'd help Grace start some dinner.

"You and I, Mrs. O'Neill," he said, "we need to see what Beth's been up to these days."

All was quiet upstairs as Jack and Sam approached the darkened upstairs hallway. The sun had gone down about twenty minutes earlier just after Jake and his father had returned from their excursion. Apparently, Beth hadn't turned any lights on upstairs, even in her bedroom.

Knocking gently at the door, now posted with the ubiquitous middle school slogan, "Keep Out, Private", Sam called softly, "Beth, it's Mom and Dad; we'd like to talk with you". A moment later Beth opened the door, not pouting but smiling widely.

"Hi," she greeted them, walking back into the room and directing her gaze to the completed canvas now bathed in gentle moonlight.

It was stunning. Hard to believe the gentle winter wonderland that graced the easel had been painted by a young child. With light graceful strokes, Beth had depicted the awesome winter landscape silhouetted against a crystal clear blue sky. And now as the moon shown upon it, Jack and Sam understood why their youngest was mesmerized by her own work.

Beth turned slowly to take in her parents' reactions to her work and she was not disappointed. Jack's arm was around Sam's shoulder and there were those familiar silly looking tears in her mother's eyes.

"Those _are _happy tears, aren't they, Mom?" Beth queried.

"Of course, sweetheart," Sam said, "very happy." Sam went over to the budding artist and wrapped her arms around the little girl. "I am so proud of you. It's amazing."

Jack was at a loss for words. It had been quite a day. And now to find out his baby girl had such an amazing talent.

"Beautiful, Beth; it's beautiful, honey, and so are you," he said, kissing the little girl gently on her forehead.

Beth beamed. The youngest of four talented siblings, she'd struggled in her own mind to find a place for herself in this fairly extraordinary family. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

OoOoOo

Once her work had been appreciated, Beth had easily been coaxed downstairs for supper. She'd brought with her a sketchbook filled with drawings she'd completed over the past few weeks. Once dinner was finished and clean-up was complete, everyone was treated to the debut of her sketches, portraying some fairly insightful glimpses of friends and family members.

"Dad," Grace said, shortly after everyone had congratulated Beth on her work, "it's almost time for 'The Andersons'. It's been awhile since we all watched the show together. I'll make some popcorn, okay?"

"Good idea, Grace. You do that," Jack replied, turning to Sam with a smile. "The Andersons" had premiered shortly after the cancellation of "the Simpsons", Jack's favorite show of all time, three sad seasons ago. "See snowstorms are good for something," he added. "Got us to spend a day together and now I get to watch my _favorite _show with my _favorite_ people."

Sam gave him that look of utter adoration she still saved only for him, the one that made him willing to do absolutely anything she asked. And the request was hardly difficult; she simply wanted to cuddle while the kids were otherwise occupied.

In fact, he was so preoccupied with fulfilling his wife's simple request, Jack never heard the kids reenter the living room with hot popcorn and drinks. Instead, he heard the sound of his middle child's embarrassed disapproval.

"Yuk! Mom, Dad, not in front of your kids!" Jon berated them, much to the amusement of his older siblings.

His parents ended their relatively chaste kiss and turned to their smiling, giggling quartet.

"What?" Jack asked.

"It's nothing, Dad. I've got the mushiest parents on the face of the earth, that's all," Jon quipped.

"Yeah, but you haven't seen parents on P3X-299. Trust me, this is nothing!" his father came back at him.

"Very funny, Dad," Jake supplied, never one to miss his dad's humor.

With that everyone was rescued from further embarrassment as the musical theme of "The Andersons" began. It had been a long day and as they watched the comic exploits of the newest fictional cartoon family, the O'Neills were grateful once more for the very real family of which they were a part.

The years would come and go; youth would give way to adulthood, yet the abiding care and concern with which this family held each other would abide. And in the years of transition from childhood to maturity, when everything was changing, inside of them and in their world, Beth, Jon, Jake and Grace would be strengthened and supported by family bonds and memories of days like this.

The End.

* * *

A/N: Thanks once more for reading and reviewing. All of your feedback and suggestions have been most appreciated.

One disclaimer: this piece tells the story of how I'd hope parents could guide children, albeit in a somewhat idealized situation. And I admit I don't have any first hand experience. The closest I've come is with my two beautiful nieces, now young adults. My sister frequently teases me and I agree with her, that I got the best part of the bargain. I get to be the adoring aunt, while she does most of the hard work! I am in awe of parents who manage to do it all, my sister included.

Perfect Light, the final piece of the Alone series, will hopefully start soon, taking us several years into the family's future.


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